


Someday (It's a Date)

by LivetoLaughTattoo (Mossyrock)



Category: The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode: s03e05 It's Comedy or Cabbage, F/M, Post-Canon, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sexual Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:42:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27724327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mossyrock/pseuds/LivetoLaughTattoo
Summary: Midge walked away, leaving Lenny, and herself, wondering. What was that 'someday'?Will explore their relationship post season 3, episode 5 (i.e. the episode that killed me) and then resolve the tension.
Relationships: Lenny Bruce (The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel)/Miriam "Midge" Maisel
Comments: 11
Kudos: 66





	1. Midge's Mind

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to skip straight to them post season 3 and getting to the fun part, you can skip right to chapters 3 & 4.

She was walking away from Lenny. Lenny Bruce. _The_ Lenny Bruce. The one and only. 

She must be completely and utterly insane. A real meshuggeneh.

If she'd have told herself a year ago that she’d spend an incredible night, laughing, drinking and dancing with him, she’d have plotzed. Even before she’d met him, long before she’d taken up comedy herself, she’d admired him. Of all the things Joel had given her, comedy was the greatest gift. 

Besides the kids, of course. She hadn’t forgotten them. They'd just temporarily slipped her mind. Whoops. 

Since her and Lenny became – Friends? Colleagues? – whatever it was they were, she’d only grown to admire him more. She’d gotten to see the real Lenny, off the stage. She’d seen him being generous and kind, doing the show at The Gaslight, for free. _For her_. She’d seen him nervous and unsure at the Steve Allen Show. She’d seen him drunk and depressed about being poor and prosecuted. She’d seen _him_. 

And instead of tainting her idea of this perfect comedy God, it had made her admire him more. He had struggles, just like her. Sometimes the same struggles. In a lot of ways, they were similar. Birds of a feather etc, etc. 

She felt like they’d bonded. She’d had friends before. Many of them. She seemed to be able to make friends quite easily. Everywhere she went, really. It was a skill she didn’t know how she’d acquired, but it had saved her ass more times than she could count. But the ease and speed at which she and Lenny had bonded had been like nothing else she’d ever experienced. It had been effortless. They understood each other and their humour bounced between them like a tennis ball going 100 miles per hour, making anyone watching them dizzy. Being with Lenny was easy. 

Which was why she’d walked away. 

It wasn’t because she was unsure of how she felt. If anything, it was the opposite. She cared for him. A lot. Too much. And she knew he cared too. He might not be the most demonstrative with his emotions, but that just made his small gestures all the more obvious. A sly smirk here, a wry smile there, a shared joint hidden in an alley... Each meant something different. He might seem like a dark, charismatic mystery man, but she thought, rather smugly, that she was becoming quite good at reading him.

Maybe she’d subconsciously been waiting for him to make his move the entire time they’d known each other. Waiting for him to address the unspoken next step she knew they’d both considered. It was something she’d considered extensively – more than she’d like to admit. Enough to make her blush and, after everything she’d said and done in front of thousands of strangers (and her parents), it was near impossible to make her blush these days. Thank goodness she’d stolen some extra makeup samples from B Altman before the tour.

But Lenny was the exception. He got under her skin. 

The night had been perfect. Everything she could ever have wished for and so much more. He’d been funny and crazy and soft and sweet. And she had no doubt if she’d have taken that last step over the threshold into his room, that would’ve been perfect too. Mind-blowing. Unforgettable. _Sensational_.

She’d wanted it. Wanted him.

But she couldn’t do it. Maybe a few months ago, when they’d been not strangers, but not yet whatever they were, she wouldn’t have doubted it. She’d have dived in headfirst. Not that she was easy or desperate or anything. Though, her mother would have much to say to the contrary, she knew. It had just been a while and he’d intrigued her. She’d lost a lot of the sexual hang ups she’d been programmed with growing up. And he’d have been the perfect man to help destroy whatever of them still remained. She would bet he would’ve destroyed them with style. 

Yet, the rules Carole had taught her about one-night stands was buzzing in her head. He’d taken her to his place, so she could leave when she needed to. His room had been fairly clean, if not entirely tidy. Exactly what she would’ve expected. And she didn’t think she’d have needed a gun. Or to ruin her very expensive and pretty heels. Or his handsome face. She was fairly certain the world would never forgive her if she damaged that face.

Or broken his heart. 

Because the part Carole had said about feelings? That had been the problem. He wasn’t in the band, he wasn’t on tour with them, so it’s not like things would’ve been awkward in that regard. But she didn’t want to lose him. She needed him in her life. Even if it was just when he swept through town doing shows or a random run in at a shitty bar. He’d become a constant inconstant in her life. 

If she was being honest, she didn’t want a one-night stand. Not with anyone, but especially not with Lenny. Their relationship was more than that. It wasn’t that she didn’t want him. Because if she’d had any doubts before, they’d been thoroughly eradicated when he was staring at her, eyes dark, across the table, in the shadowy, humid, smoke-filled room. It had made her shiver, but in a good way. A way that made her feel alive. She was used to being the object of male attention, but to be the object of his attention, so sharp and relentless, was something different altogether. It made every other man pale in comparison. 

She’d told her parents she hadn’t left Benjamin for Lenny, which was true enough. She’d really left Benjamin for Shy, if any man was to blame. But really, comedy was the culprit. Still, she wondered, if Lenny had asked, would she have left Benjamin? She was ashamed to even contemplate it. While Benjamin was the safe option, he wasn’t the exciting option. He’d have waited patiently at home for her to come home every night from the clubs, but he’d never have fit into that world. He would've eventually hated it as much as Joel.

She might as well have been alone. All alone, like Lenny. 

So, someday. It was a promise. One day, when she wasn’t on tour. One day, when he was back in New York. One day, when they’d both recovered from their divorces (and she'd gotten herself a second one) and they were in a more stable place. 

_Someday_. 


	2. Lenny's Logic

Lenny couldn’t bear to watch Midge walk away. He wasn’t going to pretend he wasn’t disappointed and slightly hurt. Or very hurt, but he knew it was irrational. He had just hoped, after how amazing the night had been – how much he thought she’d reciprocated everything he was feeling – that they might _finally_ take that step they’d been dancing around forever. But she wasn’t ready. It was fine. It was. He respected her boundaries.

He just wished she had been ready. He had. 

He was a little bit frustrated. He needed a drink or ten. Or maybe something stronger.

He wished he could know what was going on in that beautiful head of hers. As much as he thought he knew her from their brief but intense friendship, Midge Maisel was still a goddamn mystery to him sometimes. He didn’t think it was anything he’d done that had driven her away. At least, he hoped it wasn’t. He’d gone the traditional route of dinner and dancing, like a respectable man might. He’d added in his own flair, with the TV show appearance and eclectic choice of bar. They both knew he wasn’t respectable, and he wasn’t fooling anyone, but she deserved to be wooed. She was somehow both the classiest and most filthy woman he’d ever met. He wasn’t sure how that was possible, but he was drawn to it like a tragic moth to the shiny, radiant flame. She was fiery and she made him feel things he’d never felt before. She was smart, exciting, spontaneous, had chutzpah and a half, and humour just flowed from her effortlessly.

It’s why they’d immediately fit together so well. She kept him on his toes and made him want to be more. He wanted to be around her and help her to achieve whatever dreams she wanted. When Susie came to him, asking him for help, he’d been ready to say no. He had said no. But then she'd told him it was for Midge. And he’d been helpless to resist, even then. Helping her hadn’t been exactly a chore. He’d gladly do anything for her. Midge didn’t deserve to have her flame extinguished. She was funny. No – she was fucking hilarious. Not in the same way he tried to be. Her comedy was infinitely lighter. And better yet it was natural, raw, instinctive. If he didn’t adore her, it might just make him hate her. Here he was, slaving away writing and practicing material like a schmuck, while she waltzed onto the stage, no rehearsal, and brought the house down.

It was just _her_.

She was usually pretty open with whatever she was thinking and feeling. It was a large part of what made her act so spectacular. And he could see she’d clearly enjoyed herself with him and her teasing promise of ‘ _it’s a date’_ didn’t sound like she wasn’t interested. If anything, it sounded like she was very interested. Or was it just another joke? But the way she’d looked at him… Maybe he wasn’t as much of an expert with ladies as he was rumoured to be, but he didn’t think even he could misread that look. It'd nearly burned him alive.

It had been the kind of look that could get a man in a lot of trouble. And Midge sure was a lot of trouble. She was enough to drive a man crazy. She was drop dead gorgeous and wielded it like a weapon. He’d been struck by her the first time they’d met and it'd only been downhill from there. Not that he wasn’t already crazy before he’d met her. Just that knowing her definitely hadn’t made him any more sane.

“ _I just wish it had a little more atmosphere_ ,” she’d joked. As far as he could tell, the atmosphere between them had been thick and heady with a certain kind of tension. And that was before they started dancing. He wasn’t sure if asking her to dance had been a stroke of genius or just the best form of torture. Either way, it had been blissfully painful. She’d rested her head on his shoulder, snuggling in close, despite the temperature of the room. Or maybe it had just been him feeling the heat. And then, he’d pulled the pink flower from the table as they packed up to leave, and tucked it behind her ear. He wasn’t an expert with accessorizing, but he’d been pleased how well it went with her outfit and the glowing pink blush on her face, as she’d softly smiled up at him. He could swear she had wanted to him to kiss her.

He wished he had. But he’d wanted to wait until they were alone. He wanted her to himself.

Maybe he’d just been reading into her actions what he wanted to see. Still, he didn’t think so. He hoped he’d made his actions speak for themselves, if not his actual words of “ _I’m here with someone special tonight. Someone I love dearly, almost as much as I love myself_ ”. Sure, she could’ve thought it was part of the wife/sister joke, but he’d hoped not. Regardless, the ball was now firmly in her court. He would let her come to him if and when she was ready.

If the waiting didn’t kill him first.

Now that he knew the feel of her in his arms, the warmth and softness of her skin, the smell of her perfume, it was all the more difficult. He’d even tried to preserve the smell of her that still lingered in the fabric of his best suit jacket. It had faded all too quickly.

Just like the sound of her heels as he hadn’t watched her walk away.

Maybe she’d left because she’d been on tour and she was tired. Maybe she wasn’t over that handsome doctor of hers. That tall, intimidatingly handsome doctor, who her parents approved of and who would’ve given her everything she could ever want. Things that Lenny couldn’t. He wasn’t a rich man, who could offer her stability and the boring life she’d had before. The idea of Midge being a boring housewife seemed as funny to him now as any of his jokes. Would she really be able to go back to staying home, being the good, little obedient wife? The perfect baleboste? Not likely. She’d had a taste of the adrenaline that came with standing on that stage. To give it up would be difficult, if not impossible. He knew that only too well. And he had tried to warn her.

Besides, Benjamin probably wouldn’t have liked being discussed on stage any more than that pathetic excuse for an ex-husband/re-husband of hers. He was grateful to the idiot for bringing her into the world of comedy and – as harsh as it seemed – for leaving her, so she could take up comedy herself. And so Lenny might have a shot. Maybe. Eventually.

 _Someday_. It was a promise. And a date. He prayed to every God he didn’t believe in that it hadn’t been a joke. He didn’t think he could survive it. So, he’d wait and hope. He could be patient, for her.

Someday.


	3. Of All the Bars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After being kicked off the tour, Midge finds herself in a bar feeling sorry for herself. Who should find her there but a certain charismatic comic?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're finally at the part where they might find their someday.

It had been a long and painful two weeks since Midge had been dumped from the European leg of Shy’s tour. She’d had to return to the house in Queens, with her tail between her legs and two cabs full of luggage to schlep back into the house. It had been a tense process, with Moishe and Shirley complaining the entire time. Thankfully, since it was late – or rather early, depending on the perspective – neither set of parents caused too much fuss, at least, not too loudly, not wanting to disrupt the neighbors. But it didn’t matter, since Midge tuned them out anyway, too busy trying not to break down into tears again. She was glad the cab ride had been long enough to compose herself.

But at the end, as an extra punch in the gut, she had two cabs worth of fares to pay. Without the guarantee of money from the tour, handing over so much money had felt like robbery. She’d had to use every single fragment of strength she had left not to crumble onto the ground and sob.

Her parents had asked what happened, of course. Their faces were confused, then concerned, and finally downright worried when she refused to talk about it. Her mother had peppered in passive aggressive questions and comments since, hoping she’d just give in and tell them, but she wouldn’t. Her father had been more forthright with his questions and respected it when she told him, “ _not now, papa,_ ” but she could tell he was just as desperate for answers as her mother was. The Maisel’s were driving her mad, but that was just another Tuesday. Even Joel had tried to talk to her a few times, but she had managed to avoid saying too much to her soon-to-be-twice-ex-husband.

The worst thing was, she had no one to blame but herself. She was the one who had crossed the line with her jokes about Shy, so now she had to face the consequences. She wanted to blame Reggie, for putting her on after Moms and for telling her to talk about Shy. To be fair, he’d been right. It had worked. She’d won the crowd over, despite how impossible it had seemed. It had been a hell of a show. One of her best. She’d felt electrified and on top of the world as she walked off that stage. She should’ve known it was too perfect to last.

She never considered that her jokes hit too close to home. But then, all her jokes did. It was her entire shtick. She was the one who talked about anything and everything, especially the things she shouldn’t. Joel had found that out the hard way. And Reggie had known it too. But he didn’t know she _knew_ about Shy. And now, thanks to her, other people might know, or at least suspect, as well.

She could just kick herself.

So, she couldn’t bear to tell her parents. The shame was too much. They no doubt would use this as an excuse to try to convince her that comedy wasn’t a good idea. And she wouldn’t even blame them. She was starting to doubt if it was right for her too.

But then, it was like Lenny had said, as she bailed him out, “ _it's a terrible, terrible job. It should not exist. Like cancer. And God._ ” But he loved it. She understood now, what he’d meant. It made them miserable, but they couldn’t give it up any more than she could wear green heels with a blue dress. It was just wrong.

Lenny had always given her the best, if not the most conventional, advice. She felt like she could use some of it now. But she lacked the means to travel to Miami and calling or writing wasn’t enough. They weren’t really the calling type of relationship. They were more a ‘run into each other in a dive bar’ kind of relationship. Besides, she wanted to see him, face-to-face, have him commiserate and share a drink. After all, misery loves company.

Speaking of company – Susie had been noticeably absent. She’d checked in a few times, but otherwise she’d been keeping her distance. Midge couldn’t help but wonder if Susie was angry at her for screwing everything up. Again. She wouldn’t blame her. She forgot that it wasn’t just her livelihood at stake. When she fucked up, Susie paid the price too.

To avoid the questions from her parents and in-laws, Midge found herself out late most nights, even though she had nowhere to be. She would find a dirty little bar and drink, feeling sorry for herself. It reminded her of a certain person too, which didn’t hurt. She wondered if somewhere down the coast, over a thousand miles away, he was doing the same. It was almost comforting.

After exactly two weeks of feeling sorry for herself, she found herself back at the bar where she’d found Lenny, before the Steve Allen Show. She hadn’t meant to. She had just supposed it was a fitting place to drown her sorrows.

She didn’t expect to see him walking in, only ten minutes later. He spotted her immediately and the smile that he gave her, while tentative, was like sunshine through the rain.

He was there. She didn’t know how or why and she didn’t care.

“Hey, Midge. Fancy seeing you here,” He greeted her, folding his tall frame onto the bar stool next to her.

There was something in his voice that told her he wasn’t as surprised at seeing her as he was letting on.

“Well, you know, this bar always needs a depressed, down on their luck comic stinking up the place. Someone had to step in while you were living it up in the sunshine state,” She joked, taking another mouthful of her drink, if only for something to do.

He gave her a wry smile and gestured to the barkeeper for a drink. He lit a cigarette and handed her one. She tried to hide the shaking of her hands, but she was sure he noticed.

Her eyes met his and they couldn’t look away. He looked exactly like he had that night in Miami. She thought it might be the same suit and everything. He looked good. She’d missed him.

She hadn’t quite regretted walking away, but the emotion was so similar it almost tasted the same. Bitter remorse.

She was relieved when a drink was placed in front of him and he looked away to take a sip. She closed her eyes and took a second to try to compose herself and slow her racing heart.

When she risked another look at him, he was staring at her again, eyes intense and unwavering. It was making her face heat again with memories and expectations. But he stayed quiet, clearly waiting for something.

She just didn’t know what. Was this how they were going to be now? Awkwardly dancing around each other? This had been what she’d been desperate to avoid. This was why she’d left.

“What are you doing back in New York? Miami finally throw you out?” She took a calming drag and hoped her teasing tone would bring back their light, bantering relationship. But his face didn’t lose its seriousness.

“Something like that.” He brushed the light-heartedness aside as if it were an annoying fly. “And what are you doing here?”

“Feeling sorry for myself and trying to get extremely drunk.”

“Not here,” He gestured to the bar. “I meant _here_.”

She gathered, by his larger gesture, he meant New York. She didn’t want to talk about it, which was strange for her. She knew her unusual silence for the past two weeks had everyone around her worried.

But if anyone would understand, it would be Lenny.

“I got kicked off Shy's tour.”

Her glance at him showed no hint of shock.

“You aren’t surprised. You should be surprised. Why aren’t you surprised?”

“I already heard.”

“How? Who told you? Was it Susie? I swear to God, if she did...” She was going to be so mad with her. Susie couldn’t just run to Lenny to save her every time she fucked up. If she did, he’d never have time to do anything else. And she didn’t need him to rescue her. She didn’t. She could clean up her own shit.

“Simmer down, angry lady. No need to get your panties in a knot. It wasn’t Susie, alright?”

“Then how?”

“The comedy community is a small one. And they like to kibitz more than a Jewish grandma.”

She knew she hadn’t exactly been keeping the lowest profile, going out every night – even though she’d avoided the comedy clubs like the plague.

She should've just locked herself in her bedroom with a bottle of vodka instead.

“What are they saying?” She was turning it into an interrogation. But he was used to that.

“No one knows why. Though, the theories they’re kicking around are hilarious. One guy thought you’d robbed a bank. I was just heartbroken you hadn’t thought to share.”

She sighed in relief. That word hadn’t spread of why was good, at least. 

“You wanna talk about it? Or we can just get completely black out drunk. Either is fine.” He shrugged and gave her a tiny reassuring grin.

He was giving her an out. That was sweet. And as much as the offer to get wasted was tempting, she needed to get this off her chest.

“Can we do both? Both sounds really good.”

He gave her the first real smile of the night and downed his drink in one gulp.

“Another round, barkeep,” He demanded. The barkeeper rolled his eyes, clearly used to drunk, belligerent patrons and Lenny. But he set about getting their drinks, which was the important part.

“Alright, tell me – what happened?”

And she did. She told him the whole story, in one long stream of consciousness tirade, barely pausing for breath. He listened, but didn’t interrupt, unless he could tell she needed him to lighten the conversation with a quick quip or ask a question if she’d left something out and confused him. It felt like old times. Who knew all it would take to erase the uncomfortableness between them would be for her to rant about all her mistakes? 

“I think I really hurt him. And after I saw him get beaten up for it! I feel so fucking stupid.”

“You’re not stupid. Thoughtless and reckless, sure, but not stupid.”

Trust Lenny to cut to the chase and be brutally honest. But it’s no less than she deserved. If anything, she far deserved worse. But he wasn’t trying to hurt her. After she walked away, she was sure he’d hate her. But he didn’t. Here he was trying to spare her feelings, even while scolding her.

“I fucked up. So now I’m here, unemployed, feeling like shit and not sure what to do next. Again.”

He looked at her, eyebrow raised, as if she’d said something stupid, as if to prove his previous statement wrong.

“What do you mean, ‘ _not sure what to do next’_? You get back up on the stage and keep going.”

“But what if I fuck up again?” She asked. It was the most serious and honest she’d ever been with him. But he took it in stride and replied with a joke, to get them back on familiar ground.

“I think you’re asking the wrong person, Midge. If I had a dollar for every time I fucked up, I’d be able to pay my lawyers.”

“Maybe I should quit.” It had been her head ever since the plane had taken off and left her behind. She’d just never put words to the feeling before.

“Alright, _now_ you are acting stupid. You can no more give up comedy than I could. And trust me, I tried. Do you like having all your limbs?”

“I guess so?” She wasn’t sure where he was going with that, but she trusted he had a point.

“Good. When I tried quitting, it felt like cutting off a limb. If you fuck up, you fuck up. Then you post bail and move on. So, stop feeling sorry for yourself and get back to work.”

“Lenny Bruce telling me to stop feeling sorry for myself? I must really be fucked.”

They shared a smile and she felt warmth spread through her. For the first time in two weeks, she felt alright.

He was staring at her again, smile half hidden behind his hand. But the smile was in his eyes, so he couldn’t hide it even if he wanted to.

He looked so unbearably handsome.

“You’re staring again.” She aimed for teasing, but it came out strangely, because her mouth suddenly felt as dry as the Nevada desert. She took a drink of her forgotten martini. She’d barely touched it, too busy talking.

“Sorry,” He apologized and looked away, grabbing his own drink. He swirled the liquid, long, strangely elegant fingers gripping the glass as if holding on for dear life.

“You don’t have to apologize. I do. I have to apologize –“

He cut her off, “It’s fine, really. I understand.”

“See, I really I don’t think you do though.”

“Midge, we really don’t have to talk about this.” His tone told her that he really, really didn’t want to talk about it.

She wanted him to know she hadn’t rejected him. Or, she had, just not the way he was probably thinking. If he wouldn’t let her talk about it… She reached out and grabbed the hand not still fiddling with his beverage. It was resting on the bar and when she took it, it was shockingly cool.

“What?” His dark eyes met hers again, this time wide and confused. All trace of the suave, aloof, charismatic Lenny seemed to have disappeared. She hoped it was only temporary. She liked that Lenny, though she liked this one too.

“I didn’t want to ruin us, Lenny. If we take that next step, I’m scared of what it’ll do to us. And I’d only just gotten remarried and I was on tour. It wasn’t good timing.” She wasn’t doing the most eloquent job of explaining herself, but she thought he understood anyway.

“Is now?” His voice sounded like he was trying to be casual about it, but it didn’t quite get it right.

She thought about it for a second. She was back in New York and not planning on going anywhere anytime soon, considering the last tour had completely combusted. She and Joel were still technically married, but he and Mei were happily together, so it wasn’t like he was going to stand in the way. That was most of her fears addressed, but it just left one big one.

“It depends. How long are you back in New York for?”

He didn’t take anywhere near as long to answer, “As long as you want me to be.”

That was interesting. And again, she wondered how it was he’d ended up back in this bar, in this neighborhood, in this city on the same night as her. It seemed too good to be true.

“I noticed you dodged my question earlier, about why you came back. Why did you?”

“I got sick of the sunshine. It doesn’t agree with me. It’s too goddamn bright and cheerful. Why live somewhere like that when I can live in this dirty cesspool of a city?” He was deflecting. He looked almost shy or nervous or something.

“Lenny,” She warned, “Why are you really here?”

He sighed and mumbled at the counter, “I heard about the tour. I figured you might need a friend. I wasn’t sure if you’d want to see me or not, after. But if not, I figured I could do a few hometown gigs.”

“Oh, Lenny.” She squeezed his hand. She really wanted to be hugging him so tightly he couldn’t breathe, but they were in a dingy bar in the middle of the night. It didn’t seem the right place to have this conversation.

She made a decision. She hoped it was the right one. It felt right.

“Where are you staying?”

“A hotel a few blocks away. It’s nothing fancy. It’s no International Inn or anything. All the numbers are firmly attached to the doors.”

“It sounds perfect. Lead the way.”

He was looking at her as if she’d lost her mind, but she ignored it, hopping off her stool and putting on her coat. She was halfway to the door before she realized he still hadn’t moved.

“Are you coming?” She asked over her shoulder.

She’d never seen him move quicker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is where stuff gets dirty. You have been warned/teased.


	4. Don't Walk Away Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter. Will Midge finally enter his hotel room?

They didn’t say much on the way to his hotel. He pointed out a few places he’d gotten drunk or arrested, or things that had changed since he’d last been in the city. New York was ever changing, yet somehow it never seemed to change.

But it was all just small talk to fill the tense silence.

Midge being silent was unsettling to say the least. He wasn’t sure what she was thinking. She had marched out of the bar like she was on a mission. She didn’t seem unsure or nervous, but he still didn’t quite believe she’d just invited herself to his hotel room. Especially not after last time. He didn’t know what she was expecting or hoping for. He wanted to ask, but he knew she’d tell him when she was ready. Besides, he almost expected her to turn around and walk away at any second. He didn't wanna push her away. He was worried if he even breathed wrong she'd disappear like smoke from a cigarette. He considered lighting one, just to have something to do with his hands, but she was keeping a hell of a pace. He was practically panting trying to keep up and he wasn't even in heels.How she could walk in those heels he had no idea, but he didn’t mind the view. Maybe if she’d let him, he could study it and try to discover her secrets.

So, he followed her like an obedient puppy. This woman was enough to make him forget himself completely and not give a damn.

They made it to his hotel quickly enough and she didn’t hesitate to enter the building, looking as if she owned the place. He was glad he was staying somewhere a little classier than the International Inn, but after her tour with Shy, he knew she was probably used to luxury hotels. She didn’t seem to care though, striding through the halls to his room as if she belonged there. 

She stopped outside his room and looked at him, eyebrow raised. He didn’t know what she wanted, but he took another step towards her, until they were almost toe to toe.

“Are you going to unlock the door or are we going to stand here all night?”

Oh. Right. Of course. He pulled out the key and opened the door with a flourish. It was almost déjà vu.

“It’s no fancy Fontainebleau Hotel, with a stupid pointless staircase to nowhere, but it’s clean and I haven’t seen a single rat.”

“Reassuring, thank you,” She remarked dryly.

But neither made a move to enter the room.

“Is this loitering outside my room going to become a habit of yours?” He joked, trying to soothe his own nerves and gauge hers.

“No. Eventually I might actually make it over the threshold.”

“I look forward to it.”

More silence.

“Are you alright? Do you want me to call you a cab?” He asked.

She was shifting uncertainly. He wondered if she’d lost her courage. It didn’t seem like a very Midge thing to do, but when it came to each other, they seemed to have a mutual weak spot.

“No. I’m fine. I just…” She sighed, “I’m nervous. It’s not like I’m some blushing virgin or anything – I mean, the two kids might be a clue – and I’ve done some things. _Plenty_ of things. But for some reason I don’t know what to do here.”

“We don’t have to do anything.” He meant it, truly he did. But it didn’t mean he’d like it. He was fairly certain if she walked away again now, he was going to start sobbing. It was going to be loud and messy and undignified.

“I want to,” She confessed. It was quiet, hesitant and so unlike her.

Did she not think he wanted it too? He thought he’d been pretty clear where he stood.

Despite the always overwhelming urge to be glib and make a joke, he knew this was one situation between them where jokes might not convey the right meaning. With a deep breath, he attempted to be serious for once.

“Midge, whether you step into that room or not, I’m here for you.” He tried not to flinch to admitting to that. Such emotional honesty wasn’t his strong suit. 

“Really?”

“Of course, really. You think I’d lie about that? Who do you think I am?” His faux outrage had her smiling up at him again, softly, like she had last time they’d been in this situation. 

“I think you’re the legendary Lenny Bruce, the greatest comic of our generation, and despite that, you're my dear friend and one of the kindest men I’ve ever met.” The last was said with such a tender sincerity it almost hurt.

“Lies! Slander! I’ll sue you. I have a whole team of lawyers. Don’t you know I have a reputation to uphold?”

Now they stood, a hair’s breadth away from each other, smiling at each other like absolute fools.

“Hey! Keep it down out there!” Came a gruff, angry voice from a neighbor.

That was too much and they found themselves laughing, far louder than they’d been talking.

That seemed to further antagonize their angry friend, as they heard a lock click and Midge, thinking quickly, grabbed his arm, yanking him inside and shutting the door behind them before they could find out who the voice belonged to.

Once they’d calmed themselves, Lenny found her with her back pressed against the door and himself somehow too far away in the middle of the room. Thankfully it wasn’t a very big room.

“I finally made it inside,” She laughed, looking up at him like a Playboy pinup, lips pouting and eyes inviting.

Only unlike the pinups in the magazines, he didn't want to show a crowd this. This was just for him. 

“I can see that.” He wanted to say something charming and witty, but she was batting her eyelashes and biting her lip and he forgot how to function.

“Lenny?” Her voice was low and sultry. 

“Hmm?”

“Are you ever going to kiss me or do I have to die waiting?”

He didn’t need to be asked twice. He placed his hands gently on both sides of her face, fingers threading through her soft hair and he slowly drew them together. It seemed to take an infinite instant for their lips to meet, but when they did, his entire being relaxed, like he’d been holding the world on his shoulders, Atlas-style. He could’ve crumbled at her feet.

Her lips tasted like something unidentifiable, but sweet. He wanted to kiss her for hours in the hopes of identifying it.

Miami, with its heat and hours of flirting, would’ve been rough and passionate, with fumbling hands and rushed movement. It would’ve been explosive and hot. This wasn’t that. This was deliberate and careful. It was _tender_.

When he finally pulled away, she looked as wrecked as he felt. For such a chaste kiss, it was enough to have him weak-kneed and trembling. She was lucky, still leaning up against the door for support. He had to brace his hands on either side of her shoulders to ground himself.

“Fuck,” She sighed.

He couldn’t help but agree with her rather eloquent assessment. But as his brain had completely frozen, he couldn’t reply even if he’d wanted to. It didn’t help she seemed to know that, because she was smirking at him, looking far too pleased with herself. 

He had to kiss it off her face, since he didn’t have any other option. She laughed into the kiss and he pulled away again, reluctantly.

“If only the police knew that the way to shut Lenny Bruce up is to kiss him. I’m sure all the officers would be lining up.”

The idea of kissing any of the cops who’d ever arrested him put a slight damper on his hormones. But it did help him find his voice. “You’re absolutely ridiculous, you know that?”

“I have been told that many times. I just ignore it at this point. But the real question is, why are you telling me that instead of kissing me ?”

“Bossy lady,” He murmured as he kissed down her jaw to kiss under her ear. It sent a shiver through her and this time it was his turn to laugh into the kiss.

He picked her up suddenly, making her squeal and deposited her on the bed. She was laughing, until he pounced on her. Then she was too busy trying to keep up as he kissed her, kissing down her neck and dropping kisses just above the too modest neckline of her dress. Not that she didn’t look beautiful in whatever she wore, but he did appreciate a glimpse of more décolletage. He was only human after all.

“Can I touch you?” He asked, breath low against her collarbone.

“If you don’t, I think I might die.”

He reached down and began to pull her dress up, it was bulky between their bodies, with a truly massive petticoat hindering his progress.

“You are wearing far too many layers.”

“Hey, it takes a lot of effort to look this good.”

He wanted to argue that she’d look good in anything – and nothing – but he was too busy kissing her again.

Thankfully, she shimmied the dress up further, until soon enough, his hand found its way to her stockinged thigh. Only a little higher and he’d be able to feel her soft skin with nothing between them at all. His fingers played up her thigh until they found her panties. She was so warm. And already wet.

He’d died and gone to heaven, he was sure of it. And he didn’t even believe in an afterlife. Such was the power of Midge Maisel.

He pushed her panties aside and began to stroke her, ever so gently. The sounds she was making, breathy little sighs and moans, were making him harder than he’d ever been before. But he was willing to wait.

She was squirming and wriggling against him as he began to stroke her harder and, pinpointed by her reactions, the places he knew she liked. If she kept that up, he was likely to embarrass himself, something he hadn’t done since his first adolescent fumblings.

“Fuck, Midge. You’re so fucking beautiful. Does that feel good? Tell me what you want.”

“Yes. Anything. You, Lenny, please,” She moaned.

“God. I have to...” He didn’t finish, too busy burying his head between her thighs. He was surrounded by layers of petticoat and dress, suffocating in her smell and taste. But what a way to go.

It only took a few licks to have her screaming loud enough for even him to hear through the wrinkling of the crinoline.

“Lenny!”

He felt her shaking as she came and he had to take a few deep breaths to calm himself. It didn’t help, since he was still buried in her lap. Every sense was filled with her.

“Lenny? Please, I need you.”

He didn’t have to be told twice. He set about undressing them both. Midge was helping, but they kept pausing to kiss and touch and it was both amazing and maddening. It certainly wasn’t helping him cool down. Every new inch of skin had to be stroked, kissed, groped, licked... She helped him roll on the condom and even the brief touch nearly set him alight.

“Midge, I swear I’m about to have a heart attack if you make me wait any more.”

“Then stop waiting.”

If he thought he’d been in heaven before, he wasn’t even sure where he’d ascended to as he entered her.

“Holy fucking shit,” He groaned into her ear.

She giggled and it caused all sorts of physical effects to ripple through them both.

He began moving, trying to take it slow, to make her feel good.

But then she held him tighter against her and said, “I’m not made of glass. Let me feel you.”

And all rational thought evaporated. He was moving on instinct and by the sounds of it, she liked his instinct.

It was mind blowing.

They lay tangled together in the afterglow, idly touching and smoking. They didn’t speak for a long time, even after they’d caught their breath.

“Now _that_ was sensational,” She joked.

He huffed out a laugh. “You certainly are.”

She playfully batted his hand, which had begun to tease her breast.

He acted put out, but he knew she saw straight through it. And he didn’t care. She’d always seen through his act and if it were anyone else, he’d have been discomforted by that. But for her, he made all sorts of exceptions.

“What’s the plan now?”

She seemed to think about it for a moment.

“Maybe we should actually go on that date? Should we tell people we’re dating? People already assume we are. And I guess I’ll have to tell Joel. I’m not exactly sure how he’s going to take it. He’s a bit of a fan of yours. Which might actually work in our favor. Or maybe not. Oh! And then there’s my parents.” She stopped, frown appearing on her face, causing a little wrinkle to appear between her brows.

He longed to smooth it away with his thumb, but he was still trying to catch up to her rapid-fire speech. He was still too blissed out to think clearly. If she was able to think in coherent thoughts, he worried he hadn’t done his job correctly. Maybe they’d just have to try again.

“Already, slam on the breaks, Speedy Gonzales. I meant whether you’re staying here tonight.”

“Oh. Yes. I’d like to stay, if that’s possible.”

“Of course, it’s possible. I’d like that,” He paused and tried to address all her points. “We can go out on that date. I’m not sure I can guarantee it’ll be anything as fancy as Miami, probably no Zsa Zsa Gabor, but we’ll see what I can do. And we don’t have to tell anyone if you don’t want to.”

She opened her mouth as if to interrupt, but he silenced her with a kiss.

“I’m not saying we shouldn’t, I just think it’ll be complicated. Like I said, the comedy scene is a small one and I don’t want your reputation hurt because of me. And it would be.” Although he suspected his would be much improved.

She was going to argue, he knew, but he continued before she could.

“You can tell your family. I’m not exactly the nice rich, Jewish boy to introduce to your parents, but seeing as how I’ve already met them, I think there’s no avoiding it.”

She blinked at him.

“I’m sorry, when did you meet my parents?” She asked. 

“Your father and I met in the back of a police car – much like us. Although he wasn’t in a nightgown, thank God.”

“My father was arrested? And he had the nerve to lecture me? I’m going to have a talk with him when I get home.”

“He was. He said you told him about me, and he wanted to see what the fuss was about. When I got arrested for showing a naked woman to the crowd, he decided to defend me.”

She took a second to digest this information before asking, “And my mother?”

“She bailed us out.” He shrugged and took a drag.

“My mother, Rose Weissman, bailed you and my father out of jail?” She asked, deadpan. She was in shock.

“She did.”

“I’m dreaming, aren’t I? This isn’t real.”

He decided to prove it, by kissing her, thoroughly.

“Was that supposed to prove this isn’t a dream?”

He sighed. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

He set about making her believe it by kissing down her body and giving her another mind-blowing orgasm.

“Still think it’s a dream?” He asked as he flopped next to her on the bed.

“Not a dream,” She whispered, smiling up at him.

“Definitely not. My imagination couldn’t do you justice. I mean, not even one hideous mole? Not one single blemish?”

She flushed at the mention of him imagining her like this.

"Maybe you just haven't seen it yet."

“I'll keep looking."

"I can't believe we're finally doing this. Is this crazy? It seems crazy."

"It is crazy. Maybe the craziest thing I've ever done." He felt the overwhelming urge to warn her against him, as if she didn't know exactly what she was getting herself into.

"I can’t promise it’s gonna be easy, Midge. We’re comics. If we were able to maintain stable relationships, we wouldn’t be.”

She gave a shrug and a nod at that, conceding the point.

“We’re gonna fuck up. It’s what we do. We’re gonna spend more time apart than together, touring and travelling.”

She’d get sick of slumming it with him, he was sure. She burned too bright to stay with someone like him. But he was going to make the most of any time he did have with her. Until she walked away again.

Speaking of which…

“You’re definitely staying here tonight?”

“Yes?”

“Good.”

There was no more talking after that, only breathless curses and prayers.

Their someday had come. And maybe they’d have more somedays. Or maybe they wouldn’t. But whatever happened, they’d finally found their way to each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end. Not too smutty, I hope. Just smutty enough. Though when it comes to these two and their insane chemistry, is there ever enough?

**Author's Note:**

> These two are magical together. They're almost too perfect for each other. 
> 
> I swear, if/when canon goes the way reality went, I'm gonna sob unapologetically. But until then, I'm gonna live in fanfic world where they have at least a little happiness.


End file.
